The Beast Arises

With a hiss of air cyclers and magnetised joint hydraulics, Veritus strode through the open door. He came with a waft of cinnamon-scented oils and a hint — a disguised nasal sting — of preservatives. His cream-coloured power armour blinked with indicator lights and protective runes; it had been rubbed down with powdered silver and fluttered with freshly transcribed papyri. The Inquisitorial Representative’s mummified face managed to express enough surprise to stay Vangorich’s hand.

‘Drakan? What are you doing in my apartments?’ Veritus’ voice was a dry wheeze, like a legacy recording from a scrivener-cherub left to decay over a thousand years of storage.

Vangorich lowered his pistol to the table and stood as the door slid smoothly shut behind the inquisitor. He shrugged.

‘It is the most secure location on Terra.’

‘So my aides were at pains to point out to me.’

‘If it helps, I was informed equally reliably that you’d not be returning from the Inquisitorial Fortress until tomorrow. An attack moon in orbit is just one more excuse for a slip in standards, isn’t it?’

Veritus smiled slightly, an odd, grisly re-interpretation of human amusement. He looked tired, Vangorich realised. More worn out than he had ever seen him. It was as if the Inquisitorial Representative had merely dropped by his suite with no grander intention than a few stolen hours of peace and quiet.

Vangorich wondered if he still wore that armour, even when he thought he was alone.

‘You are slipping, Drakan,’ said Veritus. ‘Udin Macht Udo convened an emergency meeting of the High Twelve last night.’

‘He did what?’

Veritus glanced sideways at Krule. The Assassin had lowered his plasma pistol, but only marginally.

‘Have him put it away, Drakan. You have my assurance that I could do it for him just as easily.’

Krule raised an eyebrow, but nevertheless stowed and reconcealed his weapon at Vangorich’s nod.

‘Shall I leave you, sir?’

‘Thank you, Krule.’

Veritus peered down over the lip of his high gorget collar as Beast Krule moved past him and ducked out. Again the door slid shut and clamped. The hiss of air breathed against the inquisitor’s brittle lashes. His expression was unreadable.

‘The Lord Commander proposed a motion to suspend the Inquisition from the High Twelve.’

‘He did what? Has he completely lost his mind?’

‘Perhaps. But for once, leveller heads prevailed. Only Tobris Ekharth and Mesring backed it.’

‘The Ecclesiarchy I could almost understand supporting a move like that, but Ekharth?’ Vangorich swore. ‘Does that man even have a nervous system of his own?’

‘The Lord Commander was most aggrieved.’

‘I’ll bet.’

‘The High Twelve is fracturing, Drakan. They could be coherent, at least, when they knew that Udo could pander to their interests, but now there is that.’ Veritus pointed skyward. He didn’t put a name to it, as though it was a daemon that could be summoned by stating it. ‘The paralysis, the disbelief — it was no different when Horus brought the armies of Chaos to Terra. No one, perhaps not even the Emperor Himself, believed that it could happen, even after it had already begun. Terra survived the Siege that followed only because Rogal Dorn united a factionalised military, and wielded them with one will.’

‘You’re talking about a primarch.’

‘I am talking about strong leadership. The High Lords would back it if they saw it.’

Vangorich shook his head sadly. Another age, another class of man. One could not simply replace a demigod. There wasn’t one man amongst the Imperium’s countless trillions who could even come close.

But who said it had to be a man? What if it could be something more?

‘We can speak more at the Senatorum tomorrow,’ said Veritus tiredly, angling his body pointedly to open a path to the door. ‘I trust that you can find your own way out.’

‘I did find my way in,’ said Vangorich, surfacing from his thoughts and making to leave. He paused inside the doorway and turned back.

‘Where is Wienand?’

‘You betray your care, Drakan.’

‘Or reinforce your preconceptions.’

A genuine smile stretched at Veritus’ face. ‘She works towards the common end, as the Emperor’s Inquisition always will.’

‘And your… guest?’

The suite was cloaked with a counter-surveillance manifold, both technological and arcane, and was covered by a psychically generated blanket of silence. But even with only Veritus in the room and Krule outside who could possibly overhear, it felt unwise to mention their xenos captive by name. It was like Veritus and the ork moon. Naming the thing gave it a life beyond one’s control.

‘Helpful,’ said Veritus, simply.

Vangorich let it go. He had more pressing matters on his mind.

Beast Krule was waiting in the foyer, sitting on the edge of a woven aluminium chair. He unfolded himself as Vangorich walked towards him.

‘Problems?’

Vangorich shook his head. ‘Does Esad Wire still have his uniform?’

‘He’s been off duty for a long time. Even in KVF Sub Twelve that kind of absence without leave gets noticed.’